Chapter XVIII: - Riches?
Merrin - Day 5 - Ordel, the Mantis
Carefully, Merrin traced her fingers along the tired wrinkles of her face, glaring into her mirror as she did so. She was used to the nightmares by now, it was nothing new for the young Nightsister. Ever since she was a child, nightmares were her body's usual method of dealing with stress, even if she didn't like it. But usually, those nightmares didn't creep into reality.
''Who was he, I wonder? Who slaughtered my sisters?''
From behind her, four rays of energy - two green and two blue - penetrated her chest, the lightsabers sticking out of her like a thorn that tore her skin apart. Laughter turned cough echoed through her room, freezing her bones in an instant.
''Run, ru - ''
One of her sisters, a sweet girl going by the name of Hereth, fell to the floor as blaster fire rendered her flesh, twisting her body in an unnatural way. Smoke and fire reigned from the sky while the callous machines marched on, killing everyone and everything in their path. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see a pair of curved red lightsabers swinging at her. Suddenly, Merrin was pulled back into reality, the sweat on her forehead glistering under the artificial light of her cabin. She looked down at her chest, sighing in relief as the nightmare had passed.
Stumbling along her way, Merrin almost crashed into Greez as she left her room.
''Woah, watch it ... damn!''
The clutter of wares and kitchen utensils that masked his face almost crashed to the floor if it wasn't for her agile hands. Ensuring that nothing was worse than wear for him, Merrin scratched the back of her neck slightly, smiling thinly while she did so. Trilla. Cal. Cere - even Greez. Everyone on this ship carried some sort of dramatic experiences with them, pain that reared its ugly head now and then. Even now, the tension that lingered in the air was almost unfathomable. Merrin didn't need to add to that more than needed. She'd smile and laugh, pretend as she always did. The others needed someone that would ground them, keep them anchored and focused on what really mattered. If that meant wrestling with her demons on her own, so be it. She was a survivor, what were some nightmares in the face of real danger?
''Careful, Greez. If you fall with all of this, who knows how much damage the ship would take?'' quipped Merrin teasingly.
A joke here, a smile there. Somehow, Merrin knew that in another life, she might've been the galaxy's greatest actress. Nevertheless, she grabbed some of the pots and pans and helped to carry them into the kitchen, putting them down next to the sink before she whistled in surprise. It's been quite some time until they had that much food to spare, even for five mouths.
''That looks like it'll be something. Nourishing, certainly. Are we celebrating?''
Greez grunted at that.
''Something along those lines'' he hissed quietly ere he looked at Merrin ''nah, you'll see. Doesn't matter. How you doing?''
Once more, she merely smiled. Watching as Greez worked his magic in the kitchen, Merrin sat herself down on the table, putting one leg over the other as her gaze went towards the floor.
''As always, Greez. Someone has to be the stable person around.''
''Hah, you can say that again. Between Mrs.I-Will-Put-My-Lightsaber-In-You, Cal and Cere ... yeah, no. Things are pretty wild around here, hah!''
She arched her brow. The way Greez talked, the dullness that carried itself in his voice - did something happen?
''Greez. Are you alright?''
He stopped momentarily in his tracks. But not even a second passed before he picked up a knife and began to cut away at some of the locally grown vegetables.
''Just trying not to cut myself. Food around here is basically the same stuff you find within the Mid Rim. Probably 'cause most of the stuff from Ordel gets shipped through the system, I guess. Stupidly thick ... the vegetables here. I could really use some sharper knives one day, let me tell you. Tasty, though.''
She didn't comment further on that. If she wasn't keen on sharing her emotional state to burden the others, she shouldn't inquiry about others too. Greez might not have always acted like it, but he was though, Merrin thought. He'd manage.
''Alright. Well, I suppo - ''
A loud screech interrupted Merrin, the sound of sharp talons banging against the hull of the Mantis. Over and over, something threw itself against the ship. From down the hall, Cere cam running along, confusion written plainly in her face. It didn't take long for Cal and Trilla to join them, Cal's questioning eyes looked with her own. She only shrugged as another thud rocked the Mantis, this one more powerful than the last.
''What the ... what the hell is going on?'' asked Greez in a slightly panicked voice, the knife that he held in his hand kept in a tight grip.
''Is something throwing itself against us? Alright, that never happened before ... uhm, BD?'' Cal screamed through the halls of the ship as he looked towards the cockpit ''do you see what's going on? Is something ... say what now?!''
Feeling slightly irritated that everyone apparently understood the small droid except her, Merrin recoiled visibly as Trilla procured a lightsaber out of her grey-ish tunic. Merrin waltzed over to Cal who seemingly followed Trilla's lead. Scoffing loudly, she grabbed his shoulder and turned him towards her.
''I see everyone is panicked. Care to expla - ''
The sound of broken glass claimed the room. Cal quickly stepped in front of her, his lightsaber now held firmly in his hand.
''What is that thing?'' questioned Cere dubiously, her hand wandering to her blaster.
Outside of the cockpit, a gigantic winged creature rested on the nose of the ship, a sharp and black sting mounted at its lower torso. Violently, it used its sting to try to shatter the windows of the ship, a task made considerably more difficult by the thickness of the exterior windowpanes.
Greez ran behind Cere and shoved her in front, screaming in terror while he hid behind her.
''Do something. It's ruining my ship ... what is even going on here anymore?!''
Even though Merrin has seen similar predators on Dathomir, there was still a ping of fear that grabbed her bones. Nar Shaddaa wasn't that long ago - and back there, she was almost defeated by a bunch of mere criminals. This creature was on an entirely different level, its ferocity unparalleled with almost anything she has ever seen before. It was wild, rabid in its motions, throwing its pointy talon anew and anew at the ship, crack after crack spreading throughout the window. Yet there was something more, something more sublime than that. Though she couldn't quite place it, there was something in the Force that danced around the feral monster. A presence feeling not unlike the magic of her people or Trilla's presence in the Force. Just darker and more primal. With a harrowing roar, the beast raised its wing and took off, leaving behind the disgruntled crew of the Mantis and a plethora of questions. Merrin didn't realize how close she scooted to Cal at first, granting him an apologetic nod before she dropped herself down on a nearby seat, the sound of her pounding heart ringing true.
Chaos ensnared the others as panicked words were exchanged freely between them. Merrin didn't listen though. A hollow feeling crept through her bones as her legs grew cold. She was tired of it all. Ever since she left Dathomir, the haunting memories of her past managed to dominate her every thought, as if she was a puppet pulled along on a thin string. Yet she couldn't talk about it with anyone, not even Cal. Tensions on the ship were already running high enough, there was no need for added problems. Speaking of, Merrin raised her hands and clapped strongly with them, silencing the rest of the crew in an instant.
''Why is everyone still debating? We should ready ourselves. I doubt that that was the last time we saw it.''
Cere lowered her head in agreement, glaring over to the damaged windows of the cockpit.
''You can say that again, Merrin. Cal, what about the supplies from Nar Shaddaa? Something useful in there we can use?''
He put his lightsaber back on his belt. Sighing in relief as he picked up BD and put him onto his shoulder, he simply nodded and ran along, presumably wishing to check up on them.
''Right. Trilla, you're with me. Until we deal with this, somebody needs to keep watch.''
As soon as her orders were barked, everyone went to work. Greez and Merrin were left behind, the former prancing around in an anxious way.
''It's going to be alright, Greez. Need I remind you that you faced worse on Dathomir?''
''Nah, it's not that. It's ... ugh.'' he raised his hands up high into the air and scoffed ''there can't be a second of peace when it comes to us. The Mantis - well, Cere and I were planning to tell you that the ship is damaged and in need of repairs. And it's costly, let me tell you that. Costly enough for you to get out there and earn some Creds. And now we're being attacked by grumpy looking winged monsters ... this is getting too much.''
With a heavy breath, Greez walked over to his aquarium, putting his forehead on the cool and transparent glass. She looked at him with understanding. The past few days have been rough, even for someone who was accustomed to living such a dangerous life as him. Everyone had a breaking point, even Greez. She just hoped that he wasn't near it. Things tended to get ugly when people - who were already under much daily stress to begin with - finally snapped. Dathomir has taught her that lesson well.
Wonder when it's my time.
Shaking those whispers out of her head, she followed Greez with quick steps, carefully planting her hand on his shoulder.
''I know. I understand you, Greez.''
''Know what's funny, Merrin?'' he closed his eyes at that ''somehow, it feels like right now, you're honestly the only one who does. The others ... like, I don't know how that Nightsister stuff works, right? But it isn't that philosophical, from what I've gathered? It feels like Cere and Cal are constantly trying to cross off things on some sort of imaginary Jedi-checklist. Is that in accordance with our teachings? Is it alright to say those words in that way? It's just so tiring when it comes to - well, me. Every time they try to ask me how it's going, I see that same glimmer between them. Like a doctor checking up on a patient. I can't deal with this, Merrin.''
She has noticed similar patterns, truth be told. Yet she didn't pay it much thought, unlike Greez. Merrin could sympathize with him, however. She did realize that the others were treating him differently - even if subconsciously - because of his inability to command the Force.
''Indeed. It must be annoying. But I understand. Tell you what - grab some seat and I'll make you something to drink. After I check up on Cal, I'll help put those things back into the refrigerator. Something tells me that this will be a long night, doubt that there'll be much time to eat together.''
Wordlessly, they stepped over to the kitchen with Merrin guiding Greez to a chair.
''What was it called - Meiloorun Juice? Coming right up.''
''I ... thanks Merrin.''
''Always.''
Cal - Day 5 - Ordel, the Mantis
Taking a deep breath, Cal placed the chest on the workbench with a loud thud, making some of the wayward tools lying around vibrate in the process. Though he did give the crate a quick analysis back when Merrin was hurt, he never really had a chance to go through the inventory probably before. A mistake, perhaps, but one he wished to deal with as quickly as he could, lest that winged creature returned - or brought some friends.
''BD, can you make a list?''
The droid jumped up and down ere he projected a holographic square into the air, bathing the room into a calm blue light. Cal pressed a button on the site of the chest, summoning a quick hiss and a brush of air that escaped from a couple of ridges on its side.
''Wow. Alright, the Captain didn't under-deliver, eh? I knew there was some funny stuff in there, but damn.''
Removing his glove, he put his hands into the crate, rummaging around in it for some time until he pulled out a thick metal cylinder, a silver pin and body held together by black and sturdy plastic. Cal tilted his head somewhat, his brows forming an uneven wave. He knew that thing from somewhere. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted a second similar object. Pulling it out, his world went dark as the Force echoed through his body.
Another volley of blaster bolts flew past us as those sithspawn Clankers marched on, approaching our command post. Some of the heavy units brought their weapons into position, hoping to keep the CIS army away from their position. They were mowed down first, their existence nothing but another footnote in the history of the Republic. I couldn't watch. Those were my brothers. My flesh and blood. I grabbed one of the ion grenades from a nearby assault unit - his upper body turned to a crisp by one of the droid snipers - and ran to the next piece of cover, a broken-down roof from one of those fancy Naboo houses. Cover to cover, death after death, I made my way to the droids, priming the grenade as I did so. Three ... two ... one ... for the Republic. I watched as the blue light and waves of energies wreaked havoc amongst the Clankers, taking down enough of them for my brothers to have an actual chance. A bolt - its crimson red light as beautiful as it was deadly - fly through my chest. But that was okay. I live and die for the Chancellor and the Republic. At least my brothers were saved.
Cal coughed heavily as his chest struggled for air. Ever since Nar Shaddaa, his visions somehow became stronger. Where once he felt mere flashbacks through the Force, now even his body reacted to the events that transpired within them. A fact that he'd have to analyze further, once an opportunity provided itself.
''Ion grenades ... two of them. Write them up, BD.''
Trying not to pay it much mind, he continued in his search. Another set of cylinders revealed themselves, the black mantle of the ion grenades replaces by a sinister-looking red tone. He knew that one personally. During one particular mission with Tapal, he almost died to the savage effects of the toxin known throughout the galaxy as Dioxis. Favored by many lawless criminals and bounty hunters, Dioxis-grenades soon proved themselves an effective way of dealing with organics of all kinds.
Effective and painful. Nobody deserves such suffering.
''Two pieces of Dioxis-grenades. Great. Not going to use those. Next up ... ''
Cal pulled out three plastic bottles of a blue liquid, one of them carrying around a set of leathery patches to boot. Bacta, a substance known for its inane healing qualities - as Merrin could vouch for.
Coming closer towards the bottom of the chest, he uncovered a couple of rations, one looking more boring than the other. Military rations, no doubt. Hoping that it would be some time until they had to use those, he looked in stunned amazement once he saw what hid itself on the bottom of the crate.
''BD, look at that! That's some serious firepower!''
Three blaster pistol grazed the bottom. On the left, a compact looking DC-17 presented itself. Though he never used one himself, Cal knew of the weapon mainly because it was the preferred sidearm of the Clone Troopers. In the middle was a larger, almost revolver like blaster. Having no idea what model it was, he grabbed it and placed it outside, putting it next to the first pistol. That only left a sleek Imperial RK-3, a blaster known for its usage amongst the higher echelon of the Imperial military.
''Right, let's sum up. Two ion and two Dioxis grenades, three units of bacta, a set of patches, three blasters and food. We can work with that.''
If the mood wouldn't have been so dire, Cal would've added that it was worth every Credit. Though he harbored some respect for the Captain - if only because he never wished to inquire further about his business - he was still surprised at the collected worth of the crate's inventory. Was it an acknowledgment of their past or a hope that Cal would leave him alone as soon as possible? The truth was somewhere in the middle, he supposed.
''Cal Kestis, Jedi and certified ammunition expert. They train you well, don't they?''
With her usual swagger in her voice, Merrin approached from behind, stepping next to him in almost an instant as she overlooked the chest's contents.
He grinned slightly at that. Though obviously in jest, it was always good to hear a compliment from her, for some reason. Force knew, there weren't many opportunities to actually smile nowadays anyway. He needed it, from time to time. And he was grateful for it, for her.
''Spend a lot of times with the clones, even if Master Tapal wasn't really a fan of - '' he pointed at the blasters ''any of this. I don't know how to explain it, really. I guess we were just the generation of Jedi that had to know about those things, whether they liked it or not. We were the first younglings that grew up during wartime for many years ... halfway through, our training began to reflect that fact. Students became commanders, masters became generals and so on. It was all just so weird.''
Even know, Cal didn't quite understand how he was supposed to think about this. Before the end of the Clone Wars, he tried not to think about it too much. There were people that needed his help, there was simply no time for philosophy back then. Was a Jedi a peacekeeper even if he marched in an army? How far should a Jedi's loyalty to the Republic stretch, compared to the good of all? Those and similar questions started to creep into his thoughts once the war reached its final stages. But even then, he was still young. Young and certainly naive.
I wonder what Trilla and Cere think about that.
''Sounds like child soldiers to me.''
Cal nodded at that. Perhaps it was the truth. Perhaps Merrin was to removed from everything to truly understand this - but so was he, if he was honest. How could anyone at this age even begin to understand the terror of war, Jedi or no Jedi?
''I don't know. I try not to open that can of thoughts, not as long as the galaxy is like ... well, that. Empire and all. Perhaps once everything is said and done for, I'll come to a conclusion. Until then, you'll have to be content with this charming young man right here.''
''Oh right, I forgot. We're married.''
With a joyful giggle, she punched his shoulder in a playful manner.
''You do know though that as your wife, I expect some bigger guns. Those aren't really up to my standards.''
''Merrin, do I even wish to know what would be enough for a Nightsister?'' Cal asked ere he started to laugh.
''Greez told me about them, what are they called ... ah yes, a rocket launcher. That would suffice, for the start at least. Past what your people call honeymoon, I'd be content with that.''
Somehow, Cal didn't doubt any of those words.
''Naturally. I'll be on the look-out then.''
''Am I interrupting something?''
Trilla's voice quickly silenced any laughter that erupted between them. Trying not to be thrown off to much by her sudden approach, he put his hand onto the back of his neck and started to smile, hoping that he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of her once more.
''Not at all, Trilla. What can I do for you?''
''Nothing. Actually, I'd like to speak to Merrin.''
That's new, Cal added silently. Noticing the glimmer of understanding that sprang from Trilla's eyes and ended up on Merrin's owns, he didn't question as the two women just stood up and left him with his toys. He never thought that Trilla would ever talk to Merrin. After all, there was not much that connected them, he thought. However, if the day was intending to prove something, it probably was that the galaxy is full of surprises.
''Right. Come on BD, let's get back to it.''
Administrator Loch - Day 5 - Ordel, Blue Gate District
Richard always enjoyed spending the few hours of free time he had during the week at some of Stone Town's local bakeries, given that not only he had developed a serious dependency on Caf, but also because baking proved itself to be one of his few secret pleasures. A good mug of liquid energy here, a piece of sweetened bread there and the day was a success, or so he believed. The fact today almost all of Blue Gate was in a riot didn't help much but to dampen his mood.
''S-Sir ... I don't. We. Uhm. Can't explain ... trying to calm the people right now.''
He grunted at that and he arched his brows at the Storm Trooper. Loch was always known for his more softer than strong-arming approach at ruling, even if that meant looking away when his people didn't adhere to every part of the Imperial protocol. No, he could understand that easily, given that he never really bought into the hole control through authority approach in the first place. It was enough to settle for strict yet not overly oppressive restrictions as a foundation, the rest would solve itself. What he didn't like however was when someone wasted his already valuable time with needless stuttering, especially if it should be known by now that he wasn't one to treat his troops badly.
''Calm down. What's going on here? Blue Gate isn't known for such ... uncalled chaos.''
Upfront, a crowd of rowdy people has formed, all surrounding one of the Caf shops he liked to frequent.
And to think that I thought this night to be one of beauty. Of course, I couldn't be that lucky.
''It's - truth is, we don't know. Perhaps you should look at it personally.''
Sighing in frustration, he made his way through the mass of limbs, halting only once he saw what enraged the crowd.
The windows of the shop were trashed, its splinters were thrown onto the marble surface of the once so clean streets. That wasn't all, however. The smooth blue-tinted surface of the building carried a strange-looking red mask on it, the grand sign stretching from the lower right corner to the utmost left. The paint, almost blood-like in its essence, seemed to be relatively fresh.
Next to the glass splinters, a couple of pamphlets managed to grab his attention. Picking one up, his stomach began to twist as he read its hellish content.
Citizens of Ordel, heed my call!
Too long, the arms of oppression and tyranny have squeezed every ounce of freedom out of this sickening husk that once was a world of beauty. The Republic, the Empire - seize the means of your own spirit. No government, no rules - only people. Our farmers are dying, our cooks have no food to cook and our children are hungry whilst the animals ravage our lands, vile and greedy mercenaries waiting for the moment to strike when we are at our weakest.
Loch is a fool. The politicians are useless. There are only people. Only us.
Done the red mask. Our revolution is carried out by blood!
For the people!
AN:
N7 - Oh stop it, that's so nice of you to say! Welcome onboard. Thanks for reminding me that I wanted to write something Mass Effect-thingy for years now! Miranda/Shepard fics were basically my childhood! (Yeah, I'm being serious right now.)
Advina - As always, thanks for continuing to stop by! And reading! And motivating! And anything!